


A Sporting Chance

by posingasme



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester is Ben Braeden's Parent, Doctor Castiel, Fluff and Mush, M/M, Single Parent Castiel (Supernatural), Spaghetti, Swimmer Sam, Triathlete Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-12 21:13:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21482938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/posingasme/pseuds/posingasme
Summary: Castiel Pierce is the proud, overprotective parent of a great kid, who has befriended Ben Winchester, from his karate class. The play date between the boys becomes a first date between a single dad and a shy uncle. Fluff ensues.
Relationships: Castiel/Sam Winchester
Comments: 98
Kudos: 149





	1. Spar and Swim

Dr. Pierce’s son was the best among them. Everyone knew it, especially Dr. Pierce. Sam had never seen the man smile, but the way his eyes flashed with quiet pride when Jack was outperforming his peers made the room light up. It made Sam laugh at the intensity in those electric blue eyes. 

The kids were just eight years old, after all, and this was not the Olympic qualifiers. 

Dean snorted. “Try telling that to the father of The Karate Kid,” he muttered. He looked back at his phone. “Lisa’s texting again. Wants me to give her and Matt next weekend for a trip to a stupid museum.”

Sam glanced at him. “You realize calling it that isn’t helping you seem like the better parent.”

“I mean, what the hell do they need him that particular weekend for? She knows I’m planning on taking him to a ballgame. Matt’s behind that,” he snarled. “Douche. Lisa knows Ben would rather go see the game with me than stare at a bunch of old stuff pinned on a wall with that asshat.”

Sam went back to watching the boys work on their forms, and sneaking sidelong peeks at Dr. Pierce. “You can go to another game.”

“Why? Because the museum is only open next weekend?”

“Maybe there’s a particular exhibit-“

“Whose side are you on?”

Sam snorted. “Ben’s,” he responded quietly. “You calling his step-dad a douche and being inflexible out of spite isn’t healthy for my nephew. But do what you want.”

Dean was glowering at his phone. “You know I’m going to give up the damn ballgame. Just let me bitch about it to you, and I’ll get it out of my system before I talk to him. You know how this works.”

He smiled then. “I am sorry, man. It shouldn’t be so hard to get time with him.”

His brother shrugged moodily. “His majesty had some commentary when I picked him up yesterday morning. I’m just still pissy about it. That’s all.”

“What did he say?” Sam demanded. 

“He appreciates me being a cautionary tale for Ben about what happens when you don’t try in school.”

“What?”

“I can’t pick up till eight thirty. So I went to the shop around six and put in two hours under the hood of some kid’s ride before picking up Ben. I guess I had grease on my jeans still. Matt pointed it out. Said you end up digging in greasy engines all day if you’re not smart enough to go to college.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “He said that? In front of Ben?”

Dean stared ahead, watching his nephew and Jack Pierce taking direction from their instructor. “I just smiled at him and said it was a good thing Ben had such a good example in his uncle Sam, the lawyer from Stanford. Matt smirked and said he was glad the kid had a few good genes on that side of the family.”

“What a douche!”

“That’s what I said.”

Dr. Pierce looked away from the dojo floor for the first time since the class had begun. “Excuse me,” he said to them from the bench nearby. 

Sam felt his face heating. “I’m sorry. Are we too loud?”

Dean was making a face at him, but he couldn’t help apologizing. 

But Dr. Pierce shook his head. “No. Yes, but that’s all right. I don’t mean to listen, but did you say that you’re Ben’s father and uncle?”

The older man sat up straight. It looked to Sam as if he were getting preemptively defensive. “Yeah. Why?”

Dr. Pierce nodded toward the boys. “He’s a hard worker. I’m inclined to think he got that from the man who was up working with his hands before his step-father was even awake on a Saturday morning.”

A surprised smile bloomed on Sam’s lips now, and he watched Dean stare in shock. The older brother cleared his throat twice before successfully responding. “Yeah. Well, the step-dad is a doctor, so...Hard to compete when you’re just a mechanic.”

The other man sniffed in distaste. “I’m a surgeon. It’s not that different. Get the wiring fixed properly and find compatible parts.” 

Dean burst into laughter. “I’m guessing it’s a little more complicated than that.”

He shrugged. “Only a little.”

“To this guy, I’ll always be the dropout with six bucks to my name. I’m not exactly a role model.”

“That’s not true. First and most importantly, you’re here. You and your brother are here for every practice, every test, showing him you care about his hard work. And anyway, in order to be a decent auto mechanic, you have to have the basic skills and understandings of an engineer, an electrician, and a plumber. If you own your own shop, you have to be a businessman, an accountant, marketer, and manager as well. As a surgeon, I have to do very little of that. I mean...cardiac and digestive systems are like plumbing, and the nervous system is electrical engineering, but the business aspect is all left to someone else. What does your guy do?”

“He’s a foot doctor.” But Dean was grinning. 

Dr. Pierce gave a snort. “Podiatry. How pedestrian.”

This time, it was Sam who couldn’t help laughing. “Nice!”

The man seemed pleased with the reaction to his play on words. “I’m Castiel Pierce. Jack’s father. Call me Cas.”

Dean took his hand. “I’m Dean. This is my brother Sam. Ben’s my kid. Nice to meet a doctor who doesn’t look down his nose at the rest of us.”

Castiel shrugged. 

“Jack’s focus is really good,” Sam remarked somewhat shyly. 

Pride nearly pulsed from Castiel. “I think so too. Some of them at this age are very sloppy. Careless. I’m always gratified to see that he is so thoughtful.”

“He learned that from you?” Sam guessed. 

But Castiel shook his head, eyes still locked onto his son. “No. His other father.”

“You the step-dad?” Dean asked. 

“I’m the one who got custody in the divorce.”

Dean’s head tipped in confusion, but Sam’s mouth immediately went dry. “In-instead of his ex-husband,” he clarified quietly for his brother. 

The other man still frowned as he did the math, then let his eyebrows go up. “Oh,” he responded. “Oh. Well, Jack’s doing real good. Ben likes him. Except he gets frustrated that Jack’s kicks are better.”

Castiel kept his gaze steady on the boys, but gave a soft smile. It was the first true smile Sam had seen, and it was heart-stopping, adorably crooked and sweet. “Ben’s holds are better,” he allowed. “Hopefully not for long.”

Dean laughed. He put his elbows on his knees, and watched the kids, and burst into stories about his son, letting the doctor brag on Jack as often as he liked. Sam sat back and observed. He had thought Dr. Pierce was incredibly handsome, and the few times he had heard the man speak had blown him away with the timbre of his voice. But he had always suspected the guy was uptight and probably snobby. To find an intelligent and dry sense of humor and an amiable personality behind those striking eyes was a shock. And then to find out the guy was also into men too? It was practically unfair. 

So when the conversation very suddenly turned on him, Sam was completely thrown off-balance. He blinked. “What?”

Dean was smirking at his fluster, but Castiel cleared his throat and spoke again. “I just mean that it’s unusual for an uncle to attend a nephew’s practices so regularly as you seem to. It’s fantastic that he has so many supportive adults in his life. I wish Jack did. But I was curious about it.”

Sam’s face was warming again. “Oh. Yeah, uh, I-Ben and I have an arrangement. He comes to my competitions and I go to his. When Dean and his mom split up a few years back, it was our promise to each other that we weren’t going to disappear from one another’s lives. So I told him to pick any sport, and I would be there as often as I possibly could, and he said he wanted to be a fighter.”

Dean’s arms crossed his broad chest. “Yeah. There went my plans for football.”

“He can still play football one day, Dean!” Sam cried in exasperation. 

“I’m guessing this is an ongoing argument,” Castiel snickered. 

Dean shrugged. “Long as it’s something. I hate the idea of him sitting home all day every day playing video games.”

“And he goes to your competitions,” Castiel prompted. “In what do you compete?”

He was outright blushing now. What was the matter with him? Just having this man’s eyes on him was enough to turn him into an idiot. It was no wonder he hadn’t gone on a second date in years. “Uh…”

His brother appeared to agree that Sam was an idiot, based on the look on his face. “Swim,” he barked, making Sam jump a little. “Guy’s a swimmer. Triathlete, cycling, swimming, running even when nobody’s chasing you; it’s all pretty dumb. Most of his free time is spent underwater.”

That also might have something to do with why he didn’t have much of a love life, Sam acknowledged sadly in his own head. 

But Castiel was staring with complete intensity now. “You compete in triathlons?”

“M-mostly swim meets, but-but, yeah, when I-when I can get my work schedule to-“ Sam sighed in frustration. “Yes. Triathlons.” The idiot part was probably mostly to blame. 

“What sort of training must that involve?” Castiel wondered. 

Dean snorted. He was back to watching Ben. “Stupid amounts of it. Dude only ran five miles before breakfast because-quote-it’s an easy day today.” 

“That’s…impressive,” the doctor breathed. 

Sam couldn’t look at those eyes anymore. He lowered his own gaze to his hands. “It’s not. I mean, anybody could do it. If they trained.”

“I disagree. And for once, I will play my medical school card. A triathlete is impressive, and that’s my professional opinion.”

He smiled quietly. He wasn’t sure what he might say to that, and fortunately it didn’t matter, because Sam heard the karate instructor call to the students to bow out, so conversation in the parent section was discouraged anyway. He didn’t listen to the master’s quick speech like he usually did, didn’t watch how Ben forced himself to stand at attention, didn’t recall how much his nephew had grown up in the last few years, as he usually did. Instead, he rounded his shoulders and tucked into himself and focused on how to get away to the Impala as quickly as possible without being rude once the master was done speaking. 

Dean grabbed Ben in a hug when he rushed off the mat. He grinned at him. “Heya, kiddo! Those kicks are looking good, my man!”

Jack bounded up to his own father, a little bit like a puppy waiting for his head pat. “Did you see me? I got my next tape!”

Ben laughed at him. “Stripe, dude! Told you, it’s called a stripe!”

“But I got my yellow tape stripe!”

“You’re already a yellow belt,” Castiel responded with confusion. 

Ben nodded. “Yes, sir, but the tape stripe means he’s closer to his next belt test. I got mine last week, when Jack didn’t make it to class. I think we’ll test together next time! What’s the next belt color?”

He had put this question to Dean, but Castiel spoke up. “Orange. Jack, we need to speak to your father about you missing class, if it is impeding your progress.”

Sam smirked sidelong at Dean, who was diplomatic enough for once to not speak. 

But Jack nodded. “I’d rather be home and go to practice anyway. I want to make my tapes on time with Ben.”

“Stripes, dude. They’re stripes.”

“Tape stripes.”

“Dad? Can Jack come over one weekend and we can spar?”

Dean’s eyes widened, and he took a step back. “Uh. I-I guess.”

Sam jumped in quickly. “No way. You two can practice your forms and stuff, but you know Master Scott doesn’t want you sparring outside of class.”

His brother nodded. “Right. That’s what I meant. Forms. And stuff.” He made a grimacing face at Sam behind his hand. “Yeah,” he hissed. “Forgot about that.”

He snickered. “You? Forgot the rules?” he whispered back. “Shocking.”

Jack tugged at his father’s arm. “Can I? Can we?”

Castiel took a breath. “I’d...really feel better if you invited Ben to our place. You know how I feel about...I’ll order food and whatever you boys like. Anytime. This weekend, even. If that’s agreeable to Ben’s dad.”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, kid gets hurt, you’re a doctor, right? You can sew him back together and send him back out to play,” he teased. 

The man gave him a somewhat amused, somewhat horrified smirk. “Yes, Jack. All play dates with Ben will be held at our house. Forever.”

While the boys celebrated their win, Sam watched Dean. It was so nice to see his stressed big brother laughing that, for just a moment, Sam lost his own mind. “If it works for you, I can bring Ben over later today, and bring him home this evening.”

The sheer amusement on Dean’s face confused him for an instant, and then the dread sunk into his stomach. What had he just done? But it was too late, and the wicked grin on Dean’s face made that very clear. “Yup! I trust you to stay there with him the whole time. We don’t know this doctor. Could be an axe murderer.”

While regret was filling him from top to bottom, Jack spoke up. “He’s not,” he assured Sam helpfully. “My dad’s a good guy. The best good guy.”

Sam smiled at him weakly. “That’s...good to hear.” 

“You look a little scared,” Jack explained. “So I wanted you to know.”

Castiel frowned at his son. “Dean, I’ll give you my information. If Sam would like to bring Ben over later, we would love to have him. If not, we’ll find a time that works better for you.”

“Oh, he’ll be there with bells on, won’t you, Ben?” The tone of his voice made Sam want to punch him. 

“Yeah!” Sam’s nephew shouted. 

“Right, Sammy?” The sparkle of mischief in those green eyes was just infuriating. “A few hours watching the kids, getting to know one another, shooting the breeze about doctoring and triathlons and other nerdy stuff. I bet the doc here could help you improve your training regimen. Nobody like a surgeon to talk to about what training does for your anatomy…”

“Stop talking,” he hissed through his teeth.

Dean winked at him. 

But Castiel nodded. “It could be very pleasant. We can have lunch while the boys play, and discuss your training and your body. I’ll cook for us. Sam, do you drink wine?”

He whimpered and found he couldn’t answer. 

But Dean was always there for him. “He does today,” he answered helpfully.


	2. Spaghetti and Solidarity

The doctor padded about the house in his bare feet, hurrying to tidy this and that while the pasta cooked. Balt had called it “whirlwinding,” the way Castiel had always blown through every room visible to guests and made everything just a little bit nicer.

Jack was everything Castiel had ever wanted from a marriage. So he had not been entirely heartbroken to be raising him mostly alone. The child knew Balt loved him, even if he wasn’t around much, and that was what was most important, in Castiel’s opinion. Balt had not been the love of his life, nor he his, obviously. The rejection had stung, but only as a point of pride, and he harbored no ill will. He wished only the best for Balt. He had Jack, and Jack was everything good Castiel had ever known. Jack was everything.

He hadn’t wanted anything more, not since the first moment he held Jack. Adopting him from his mother Kelly had been the greatest day of Castiel’s life. He had never wanted anything more since that day.

Not since then. Not until very, very recently.

Castiel had assumed the men were the Winchester boy’s fathers. Two strikingly handsome men, always leaning into one another, whispering and gossiping between them-Castiel could hardly be blamed for his mistake. Then he had overheard them chatting a few weeks ago, and realized they were brothers, not lovers. Beyond peripheral appreciation for their good looks, Castiel had not given much more thought to them after that. Then he had been compelled to insert himself into their conversation today, and found them to be quite amiable. He particularly liked the gruff, protective pride Dean showed in his son, similar to the way Castiel felt about Jack, and the sweet way Sam ducked his head shyly when he smiled.

It wasn’t until Jack had asked in the car home that Castiel realized what that last part was about.

“Dad? So is Sam coming to visit you or is Ben coming to visit me?”

He had frowned into the rearview mirror at the child in the back seat. “What? Both. Sam is driving Ben to our house for a play date with you. And you should call him Mr. Winchester until you’ve been given expressed permission to call him by his first name.”

“Okay. It’s just that Mr. Winchester was so nervous about visiting you that he might forget he’s supposed to bring Ben to play with me.”

“Why would…” But Castiel stopped. “He did seem a little anxious,” he realized.

Jack was looking out the window now. “Probably because the other Mr. Winchester was teasing him so much.”

“Was he?”

“I guess because he kept turning pink. The Sam one, I mean.”

Castiel stared at the road ahead. “He did, didn’t he?”

“Yeah. Can you do cheeseburgers for me and Ben?”

“No, you had cheeseburgers yesterday,” he responded absently. “I thought since Sam is an athlete, I might make pasta.”

“Can it be a meat sauce? The white stuff isn’t as good. And definitely not the green stuff.”

“Pesto,” Castiel murmured. “The green stuff is called pesto. I’ll cook some spaghetti, and I’ll make a red meat sauce and a chicken Alfredo, and you and Ben and Sam can all choose what you want.”

This seemed to please Jack very much, and there was no more talk about sauces or blushing.

But it had been enough to start Castiel’s mind whirring. He had cooked and tidied up, and then was at a bit of a loss as to what to do with himself, so he checked his email on his phone. He had just moved on to looking through his calendar for when Jack’s next math test at school was, when the bell rang.

His heart was racing. It was the oddest thing. Why should he be excited? This was Jack’s play date, not his.

Jack came tearing down the stairs toward the door. “He’s here!” he shouted.

And that was odd too, since, until this morning, Castiel had barely heard Jack mention Ben, except in passing while talking about karate, and now it seemed as if they were the best of friends. Castiel spoke up quickly. “Jack! I’ll get the door. You know better!”

His son bounced a little impatiently. “But I know it’s him!”

“You never answer the door. I will do that. It’s safer.”

“Yes, sir,” he whined with exasperating urgency.

Castiel stepped in front of his son, and opened the front door. He was greeted by a shy smile from nearly half a foot above him and a wide grin two feet below. He forced himself to smile back. “Hello, Sam. Ben. Come-“

“Jack! I saw you at your window! Show me your room!”

Castiel nearly lost his balance getting out of the way of the two boys in time. “Jack! Lunch will be-“

“Okay, Dad!” the child called back.

“Ready in a few minutes,” he finished dryly to himself.

Sam snickered. “Ben’s like my brother. He’s always ready to eat, any time night or day. So don’t wait for him. He won’t starve.”

“Jack doesn’t think to eat when he’s nervous, which is apparently the case right now. So we may as well not wait for him either. When they get hungry or they smell the food, they can join us.” Castiel hoped he sounded casual about that. He liked for things to go according to plan, and he’d had a plan, even if the whole afternoon visit was an improvisation. The plan had involved letting the boys chatter while he and Sam eased into small talk. Now he wasn’t sure what to say.

Sam cleared his throat. “Right. Um, can I help with anything?”

“Oh.” He padded back to the kitchen quickly. “No, it’s just finishing. Jack wanted to choose his sauce, so I made two types. Will one of these work for you?” Work for him? What was he even saying?

But the sweet man was smiling. “Yeah, definitely! I’ve got a night swim planned, so this is perfect.”

Castiel was pleased. He plated two bowls of noodles, and let Sam point to his preferred sauce. Red, as Jack had wanted, Castiel noted. Now he was glad he had let the boy talk him into it. He found that he very much wanted Sam to enjoy his meal.

He carried the bowls and two wine glasses to the place settings at the patio table. They could hear the boys laughing upstairs, but Castiel suspected they would soon want to play outside. From the patio, he could monitor no matter where Jack chose to play.

When Sam was seated, he uncorked the bottle of merlot.

“Your brother said you do drink wine,” he recalled.

“Yeah, please.”

He smiled. “A night swim,” he repeated as he settled into his chair and poured the wine. “And five miles run this morning? You know, Sunday is meant to be a day of rest. Even God needed a break.”

Sam gave him a grin when he looked up from examining his wine. “That’s because God finished his work and saw that it was good,” he pointed out. “My work isn’t done yet.”

This amused Castiel. “So how will you know you’re finished?”

“When I see that it’s good,” Sam laughed. He seemed to be relaxing somewhat. His handsome face was wide open with curiosity and interest. “What about you? It must be pretty exciting being a surgeon.”

“Hm. Sometimes more then we would like. I work in the emergency room two shifts a week, and on call at home another. My other two days are for scheduled surgeries. It’s hard to say which is better, the expected ones or the ones that come from the blue.”

“Do you specialize?” Sam was wading through his pasta happily.

Castiel watched with a smile. “More the last few years. I always thought emergency was where I was best suited, but lately, I’ve been taking on more specific trauma cases, particularly spinal and brain injuries.”

“Wow. That’s the big stuff.”

He shrugged. “It’s all big to whomever is receiving treatment. A broken finger is big if that’s the ailment you’ve got.”

Sam was smiling at him now. “You’re pretty modest for a literal brain surgeon.”

“No,” Castiel corrected. “I’m just not afflicted with conceit as some of my colleagues are. You’re an attorney?”

“Oh. Yeah. Corporate contract mostly. It’s as boring as it sounds. But I’m good at it, and it’s a safe field. There will never be a time when contract attorneys aren’t needed.”

“Hm. Nor brain surgeons, unfortunately. Then tell me more about your training. How did you get involved with triathlons?”

Sam’s smile was soothing in a very strange way. He began to chat about swimming competitively in college, and continuing after in adult leagues.

There was something delightfully easy about this handsome man. He was simply easy to be around, Castiel decided with a sigh of pleasure. Castiel himself wasn’t well-suited to social drama or petty games, and Balt had sometimes accused him of being willfully oblivious to any going on around him. He had argued that one could not be willfully oblivious to anything, as it would require one’s awareness in order to choose to ignore it, but Balt had just huffed at him in irritation. Sam was not a man who played games, Castiel thought. He wasn’t the kind who needed drama to be happy. In just a few minutes of interacting, Castiel felt certain that this athlete was an honest, straightforward sort of person, and he liked that very much.

The attorney laughed quietly. “The food is great. You’re a good cook.”

“I’ve become adept enough at a few dishes. Spaghetti isn’t difficult, but I appreciate that you like it.”

The hazel blue eyes narrowed at him slightly. “So...you said Jack was at his other dad’s place last weekend.” Now the gaze dropped to the plate.

Castiel cleared his throat and used his napkin. “Yes. Balt and I were married for six years. He moved to New York when Jack was four. He has visits one weekend a month, though he doesn’t always use them. It’s a long trip.”

“Yeah. That’s a long time to be a single dad.”

He smiled softly. “I’ve never minded. It makes things complicated with my work schedule, but it’s always been worth it. That being said, I envy your brother.”

Sam looked up again. “Why?”

“I know he only has joint custody, but it must be a relief to have your help when Ben is with him.”

A pink flush touched Sam’s cheekbones, and Castiel felt a wave of affection roll through him at the sight of it. “When-when he moved out of Lisa’s place, he moved in to mine. We just never got around to him getting his own place. It works nicely. When I travel for business or competitions, he can watch over the place for me, and I’m there for him when Ben stays. It’s a good arrangement. One mortgage beats the hell out of two, you know?”

“Hm,” Castiel murmured. “I’m not sure I ever could have lived with one of my brothers. There’s a reason we are spread across the globe,” he added dryly.

“Are you the oldest?”

“No. My oldest brother is Michael, and he’s a Major in the Army, stationed in the Middle East. Raphael is next, and he travels internationally for his company, somewhere in East Asia currently. Gabriel is the middle child, currently on wife number four in western Texas. Then there’s me. And lastly is Lucien, who is in Los Angeles auditioning for God knows what role, and due to call me for money any day now.”

Sam was smirking. “Sounds a little different from me and Dean.”

“Quite different,” he agreed. “You seem to like one another.”

“He’s my best friend.”

The easy way he said that made Castiel sigh. “As I say, I envy him. I wouldn’t change a thing between Jack and me. But it must be nice to have true family nearby to share with.” He shrugged. “Lucien shows an interest in Jack whenever it’s my turn to write a check. Raph calls on holidays. Michael sends a card here and there. And Gabriel comes to visit whenever he’s going through a divorce. He’s the best among them for showing genuine interest in his nephew’s life. But he is usually so caught up in his own drama that he can’t be bothered.”

His guest shook his head. “That’s terrible. Dean and I get on each other’s last nerve, but we’re also one another’s first call if something is going sideways on us. Ben knows he can count on me just as much as he can count on his mom or dad. That’s how family is supposed to be.”

He watched the eyes, frowning with conviction, and the same warm affection from before filled him. “You’re a good man, Sam Winchester,” he murmured. “Dean is lucky to have you on his team.”

Without warning, Sam was suddenly touching Castiel’s hand. The contact made him freeze and stare. “Hey. We like Jack. So if you ever need someone on your team, I’m happy to help any way I can. Maybe we just met, but you’re clearly a good guy too.”

Then the hand was gone, and Sam was back to eating as though nothing had transpired between them, but Castiel found that he had to force himself to take a breath. “Thank you,” he whispered. “That’s...very kind…”

Sam smiled, then changed the subject to how the boys were doing with karate, and Castiel was left wondering if the guest had any idea how deeply he had affected the lonely heart of his host.


	3. Sink or Swoon

The swim wasn’t going as planned. He was supposed to be doing his laps like always, but instead, he was staring up at the night sky from where he was floating on his back dreamily. He had a race coming up in a few weeks, and part of his brain kept nagging at him. But he pushed that part away and continued to float lazily and half-submerged at the surface.

It had been a really good day.

A really good day.

Sam couldn’t remember having had such a good day.

He frowned at that. How pitiful was it that his best day in recent memory had been spent babysitting his nephew during a playdate?

He decided quickly that he didn’t care.

It had been a really, really good day.

Castiel Pierce was divine.

Sam’s smile returned to him, and he sighed up at the stars. He thought about the rich, deep voice, the dark hair, the bluest eyes he had ever seen. The way the man had asked him question after question, pulling stories from Sam in spite of his occasional bouts of shyness. The way he had gently spoken to his son and Ben, the way he had doted over both boys, the way he had adored Jack so completely. The way he had beamed when Sam had a second helping of pasta. The way he had taken both of Sam’s hands in his own at the end of the evening, and spoken so genuinely about wanting to get together again. The way, when Ben had headed up to Jack’s room for his forgotten coat, while the boys were out of sight, Castiel took a deep breath and reached out to push into Sam’s space, to close his eyes and lift his lips-

The wave of water sank him completely. He rose to the surface, sputtering like a drowning cat. “Hey! Dean! What was that for?”

His brother was laughing heartily. “Man, you still do that every time! Like when you were a kid! You could float all day, but if I splashed you just a little, you just sank like a rock! Used to say I-“

“Knocked me off balance, like when we were kids!” Sam shouted irritably, after dunking his head under to smooth his hair back.

“How can I knock you off balance when you’re floating? Stupidest thing you ever said, and you said some pretty dumb stuff. Freaking champion swimmer, but don’t splash him while he’s on his back!”

“Shut up! I float with my ears under and I can’t hear anything, and it’s all peaceful, and then you mess with my senses…”

Dean was still laughing, but he put his hand up. “Okay, okay, Jacque. Don’t hurt yourself. I’m sorry.”

Sam glared at him as he pulled himself up over the side to sit. “No, you’re not. If you were sorry you wouldn’t keep doing it. It’s a sensory meditative state-“

“Okay, professor! Spare me the lecture. I came out to make sure you were still breathing. Game’s over and Ben’s been asleep for over an hour.”

“Who won?” He didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything but getting back to his daydream. Night dream. Whatever.

“The ladies.”

This made him laugh finally. “Dean, it’s women’s basketball. Of course the ladies won. I meant which ones.”

He shrugged. “The ones who scored more.”

“Insightful.”

“I was fighting with Lisa by text the whole time. So? Why are you out here staring up at the sky like it’s not closing in on midnight?”

Sam blinked at him, and realized he was shivering. He took his towel from his bench and started in toward the house with his brother. “I didn’t realize it was that late.”

“I should’ve dunked you earlier.”

He made a face at him. “You gotta stop doing that.”

“You say it’s a sensory meditative thing, but I looked that up once, and it’s supposed to be a dark tank. I think you’re just a klutz.”

His face was heating. “That’s complete sensory deprivation, moron. I just want to be able to relax in my own lap pool without worrying about an asshole bully from my childhood coming to startle me into drowning.”

Dean nodded thoughtfully. “Fair,” he admitted. “Unlikely, but fair.”

Sam sighed.

“Let’s call it what it really is, kiddo.” The voice softened as they stepped into the house and pulled the glass door shut behind them. “You were daydreaming. So? What about?”

Sam pulled his hoodie over his head, and shrugged. He knew Dean hated it when he sat on the couch in wet trunks, so he made sure to sit in Dean’s favorite spot. He got a little satisfaction from his big brother’s grimace. “If I tell you, will you leave me alone about it?”

“Depends. Animal, mineral or brain surgeon?”

He snickered, and looked down at his hands. Dean made himself comfortable on the recliner.

“Go on. Get dressed, and come tell big brother all about the play date.”

His flush deepened as he stood again. “You’re an idiot.”

“So I’ve heard. Should I make popcorn or get out the ice cream? Which kind of story is it? Comedy or tragedy?”

“Shut up,” he called back on his way to the bedroom. Then, before he closed the door, he smiled and called again. “Popcorn,” he admitted.

He heard Dean’s cackle. “That’s my boy!”

When at last he had emerged from the bedroom in dry pajama pants and a clean tee, he found no popcorn, but two beers waiting for him. He let Dean open his and pass it to him, and smiled into it for a moment. “Thanks.”

“So?”

“He’s really great, man. Really. He’s so smart.”

“Brain surgeon, Sam. Skip to the good stuff.”

He snorted at him. “How good do you think it got? Your kid was there.”

“I haven’t gotten laid in months, Sam. Let me live vicariously through your daydreams.”

“That’s gross.” He took a long pull from his beer, and sat back. “He’s really great.”

“And?”

“And he said he wanted to get together again. With-without the kids, you know? He said he liked my company and...and then he kissed me.”

“Ha! I knew it! You came home, and I told Ben you had that dopey just-kissed-a-boy look on your face!”

He stared. “You said that to Ben?”

“What? He was the one who pretended to forget his jacket so the good doc could gather his rocks and make a move!”

Sam set his beer down. “That little sneak!”

“He said Jack wanted to play parent trap. They schemed about it all afternoon, apparently. My kid is really good. He’s managed to string me and Lisa together a dozen times or more. I finally had to sit him down and tell him to knock it off. But before you left for Jack’s I told him he was welcome to meddle with Uncle Sam’s love life all he liked. Apparently Jack was right in step.”

“But...but why?”

Dean sipped at his beer, and shook his head. “Why what?”

“Why did all three of you...Why would you even think to…”

The green eyes softened, and when Dean smiled, he suddenly seemed older than he truly was.

Or at least, older than Sam thought of him. Maybe this was just what Dean looked like now, and Sam had never stopped seeing him as that twenty-six year old tearing around town in that Impala. He had become a husband, a father and an ex-husband since those days. Why hadn’t Sam ever noticed those crinkles at the corners of his eyes before right now?

“Why would Ben and me want you to be happy? Why would Jack want his dad to be less lonely? I don’t know, Sam. Maybe because you’re both good men, and your families love you. Or maybe because you’re adorable and hilarious with that look on your face. Take your pick.”

Sam felt a strange lump of emotion tighten his throat, and he coughed through it, and lifted his beer to his lips again. “Nothing might come of it. I get the feeling he’s kind of stuck in his ways.”

“Maybe. But you’ve been eyeing him across the room for months now, ever since he first spoke loud enough for you to hear his voice and go all gooey.”

“I did not!” he laughed. “I don’t go gooey! I’m a corporate attorney, and I bench over three hundred. I don’t go gooey!”

“I could bench three hundred,” Dean teased. “What are we talking? Like three hundred pages of a book? Three hundred-“

“Pounds, asshat.”

“Oh. No thanks.”

“You could. You’d just probably be at one rep maxed out at three hundred, unless you trained for a while.”

“I don’t even know what you’re saying right now. I’m going back to lifting a beer bottle. Sounds healthier than whatever it is you do.”

Sam smirked, but his mind wandered back on its tour of the night’s memories. “I want to see him again.”

“Thought that was a given.”

“Talking with him today...something just felt right, you know? Like, even when I was being a klutz, he seemed interested, seemed like he really wanted to know me. It’s…” He looked up from his bottle to glance at his brother, then dropped his gaze again. “It’s hard sometimes. To talk.”

He could feel Dean watching him. “I know.”

“What few dates I go on, I’m just listening and trying not to put my foot in my mouth, and I end up wishing the night would just end. I didn’t feel like that with this guy. I didn’t want to crawl under the table the whole time. I didn’t want to yank Ben out of there, make up some story about why we have to go home. He was funny and nice, and so smart, and he wanted to know everything. It was easy with him. It’s never been easy with anybody before. He kissed me, man. We hadn’t even...He just kissed me! Ben’s lucky I didn’t crash the car on the drive home!”

Dean laughed, but it wasn’t unkind.

“I want to see this guy again. I can’t remember the last time I wanted to see somebody twice, and I sure don’t remember the last time someone wanted to see me twice! What do I do?”

“You call him.”

Sam ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “God, do people even do that anymore? Call? What would I say? A text is better, right?”

Dean just watched his little brother talk himself into circles.

“But is a text too impersonal? What am I even saying? How can it be impersonal? It’s a message from me to him. That makes it personal. Is that too forward? I mean, he kissed me, and now that I think about it, I don’t even know what I said after! Did I...God, did I even say anything at all?” He felt his face turning gray. “Dean? What if I didn’t say anything at all?”

Dean let his forehead fall into his palm.

***

Why hadn’t he said anything?

Castiel was never going to fall asleep.

Jack had done some homework, practiced a little piano, and gone to bed hours ago. Castiel had checked on him to find him passed out with a book, and had turned out the lights, and was now staring up at his own dark ceiling in silent frustration.

He hadn’t said anything discouraging. That was something. But other than a widening of his eyes, there had been no real reaction at all on that gorgeous face. Sam had simply turned and led Ben to the car.

Why hadn’t he said something?

Castiel wanted to scream the question into the darkness, but he had enough self-control to keep from that, at least. Self-control. Just like he had possessed self-control earlier when Sam had let slip into conversation about sports that he had dated another swimmer, another male swimmer? He had practically squeaked with delight at the confirmation of his suspicions! Self-control. What self-control?

What had made him kiss the man at all? What a stupid, awkward way to do it! The children had run up the stairs after a forgotten article of clothing, and Castiel had seen his opening, and then…

“And then nothing,” he grumbled aloud at the darkness. “I’d like to see you again. I’d like to spend time with you, maybe without the boys one day. I’d like to sound like an idiot and then kiss you, also like an idiot, and then I’d like for you to just stare at me and walk away, and then I’d like to spend the entire rest of the night wondering what the hell just happened. But mostly I’d like to see you again. I’d like to pretend this was a date, and not just me babysitting somebody else’s kid for a few hours. I’d like to be delusional in the face of evidence. Mind if I also dream about your incredible mouth while I’m berating myself for being idiotic?”

He sighed. There were so many lovely things he wanted that mouth for. So many parts of Sam he wanted to touch with his lips. He had gotten one chance, one lousy chance, and he hadn’t even inspired a smile.

The phone was ringing before he fully realized he had dialed.

“It’s late here, Castiel,” a familiar voice purred at him.

“I know. I’m sorry. Do you mind?”

He could see in his mind the way he knew Balthazar was stretching like a cat on his bed. “Hmm. No. Of course not. What’s wrong?”

“Can I ask you something? You would need to be honest with me.”

“Why would I bother to lie?”

That was so. They had no need for lies between them now. “Right. Balt, you’re the only one I can ask.”

“Do it quickly, dear. I’m losing beauty sleep.”

He smiled sadly. “You’re in no danger of losing your beauty, Balt.”

“Flatterer. Must be a serious question.”

“Am I a dismal kisser?”

There was a pause over the line.

He closed his eyes. “God, I am. I’m terrible!”

Balthazar burst into laughter. “Cassie, what are you talking about? You’re a fine kisser! It’s one of the things I liked best! When you’re truly about it, you’re delicious!”

“Truly about it.”

“About it. Into it. When you’re hot.”

He felt his cheeks beginning to burn. It surprised him that Balthazar could still do that to him all these years later. “Yes, I get it.”

“Who have you been kissing, darling? I had begun to think you’d stored that bit of you away along with your wedding band.”

Castiel scowled. One day he needed to make some friends, so that his ex-husband wasn’t his first and only phone call. “I didn’t store anything-He’s just someone I’ve met, that’s all.”

“Is he so handsome as I am?”

A wry smile came over him. “No one is so handsome as you,” he promised. “But he’s…”

“Sexy?”

“Very.”

“Hot?”

“Incredibly.”

“Sounds like an empty head. You won’t be able to stand him if he’s stupid, Cassie.”

Castiel shook his head. “Smart too. He’s from Stanford.”

“Hm. Princeton turned him down, I suppose. Well, we can’t all be Tiger material.”

He snickered. “Or so modest as you.”

“Quite,” Balthazar agreed. “So? You kissed him and he didn’t melt into the floor as per your grand expectations. Now what?”

“Now what?” he repeated. “I don’t know. Do I just walk it off and move on?”

“Did he punch you?”

“What? No!”

“Reject you harshly?”

“No. Not...He didn’t actually say or do anything. Just looked surprised and kept walking.”

“You’re sure he’s not a meathead? You like the muscled ones in which their only body fat is between their ears.”

Castiel’s own ears were heating. “Shut up. He’s not stupid.”

“Muscled though, isn’t he?”

“Balt!” he whined.

“Oh, all right. So text him.”

Castiel opened his eyes again. “I like texting. Emojis.”

“I know. The moment they were available to you, you stopped using sentences with me.”

He made a mental note to make real friends one day soon.

“Text him. Tell him you enjoyed your time with him and invite him to a play or something. If you think he’s likely to understand theatre.”

He rolled his eyes. “Stanford, Balt.”

“Slumming, aren’t you, darling?”

“Why a play?”

“Because,” his ex-husband said with exasperation, “you won’t have to talk during it, and you’ll have something to talk about after, and if it gets dull, you can put your hand up his thigh while the lights are down.”

“Or he will say no, and I’ll know I’m a dismal kisser.”

Balthazar sighed. “Well, if he thinks so, that’s all the evidence you need that he’s just a pretty face.”

“Thank you, Balt. Really.”

“Good night, Cassie. And good luck.”


	4. People Parts

Sam’s phone buzzed twice during his meeting, but he ignored it. It buzzed again an hour later, but he was taking a working lunch with a client’s representative. He had no time to check messages when it buzzed a fourth time while he dashed from the conference room to grab his briefcase and gym bag from his office on his way to the elevator, and his hands were full on the elevator itself. He was busy on his work phone during the cab ride to the airport, and didn’t even notice the fifth buzz on his personal phone. There wasn’t much time to look at anything but his agenda and boarding pass after that, and he stowed his personal phone in the overhead in his carryon, since he had too much work to do on his laptop anyway. It was about an hour after his flight out of Chicago was delayed, and he had made all the possible arrangements and rearrangements of his schedule, when he finally had time on his hands, and it occurred to him that he hadn’t checked his own phone all day long.

He slumped into a chair at the bar, and sighed, pulling the phone out of his bag. He gestured to the bartender, and ordered a beer, chatted with him numbly while he waited for his drink. The bottle was halfway to his lips when he froze.

There were six missed messages from Castiel Pierce.

He dove into them in a weirdly urgent panic.

“Sam, this is Cas Pierce, Jack’s father. You gave me your number in case Jack wanted another play date with Ben.”

“Jack would love to get together with him again. But I wanted to ask you if you might be interested in seeing a show with me this weekend, just the two of us.”

There was an hour break before the next timestamp, and of course no response from Sam.

“It wouldn’t have to be this weekend. I’m sure you’re quite busy. Maybe we could talk about when would work best for you.”

Another hour went by.

“I’m on call today. So I should be available to talk, unless I’m paged in.”

Forty-five minutes passed.

“Unless I was out of line with my behavior the other night, in which case, I genuinely apologize.”

Two hours later, the final message came in.

“I do hope Jack and Ben can still enjoy their friendship, even if I’ve offended Ben’s uncle. I would hate to have come between the boys by making things awkward. I’m sorry, Sam.”

Sam set the beer down without having tasted it at all. He dropped his face into his own palm.

The bartender smirked at him. “Rough day?”

“I’m an idiot.”

“Don’t look like one.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled.

“Happened?”

He laughed wearily and finally drank from his beer. “I’m terrible at relationships,” he sighed. “It’s been a stupidly long time since I had so much as a second date.”

The bartender was snickering now. “Good looking guy like you? I always figured the tall, athletic types never had to worry about stuff like that.”

Sam was flushing pink. “I’m an athlete, and I’m tall. And I’m awkward as hell. And this person I’ve been trying to get up the nerve to text all week just texted me. This morning.”

“So? That sounds like a good thing! What did she say?”

Sam didn’t bother to correct the gender. “That I should look at my phone more often. We’ve gone from me being asked out this morning to hoping our kids can still hang out even if the adults are disasters, over the course of the afternoon.”

“Because you didn’t respond. She figures you’re not interested, and now she’s backing away.”

“But if I respond right now, it’s going to look like I’m too eager, right? If I apologize for not seeing the messages, then say yes, what if I’ve missed my chance?”

“What if she spent all day realizing you’re a jerk?”

He dropped into his hand again. “What if all those hours today were spent thinking-“

“Call her.”

Sam looked up.

“Don’t text back,” the bartender ordered. “Call. And explain, and who cares if you seem eager? Look, you said you’re on a delay anyway, right? Trying to get to O’Hare? Right. Call.”

“I’ll sound like an idiot,” he whimpered.

This time, the man burst into laughter. “Man, being tall really isn’t all you need for confidence, is it? Come on, buddy. She asked you out first. Put herself out there. Least you can do is call her back and do the same. You’re wearing a nice suit. You want to tell me you can’t fake it till you make it?”

A slow smile came over Sam’s face. “I can’t fake anything. I’m good at my job. Anything else, I’m a mess. But I know someone who can fake it.”

“Do what you gotta do, my friend. Good luck.”

Sam put two bills down as payment and generous tip. Then he leapt up and hit his favorite contacts list on his way out of the bar.

“Sammy! Thought you were in Chicago tonight! What’s up?”

“Not in Chicago yet. Delay.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah. Look, I need you to help me. Cas texted. I’m sending you a screenshot of all his messages.”

“All? How many-“

“Wait for it.”

“Oh, wow. Okay. Aw! Dude, you made the brain surgeon nervous!”

“Dean, what do I say?”

His brother scoffed. “What do you mean? You say, sorry I’m a workaholic and didn’t see my phone till just now, yes, I’d like to go out with you.”

Sam took a deep breath. “But then I’d have to go out with him.”

There was a pause. Then Dean cleared his throat. “You changed your mind? I thought…”

“No! I mean, I do want to go out with him! But-but you don’t understand! I’m so bad at that!”

“Sam, you’re being stupid.”

He heard himself whimper again, and hoped it didn’t make it to Dean’s ear. “A show. What does that mean? A concert? A movie? A play? I will botch all of that! I always do!”

“How did you ever even lose your virginity?”

Sam leaned against the wall miserably. “I’ve been able to hook up. What I can’t do is date.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“Dean! Help me! Nobody gets past a second date with me. And-and the first date was with the kids there, so we didn’t have sex, and so now I don’t know what to do.”

There came another pause, this one longer, then: “Wait. You’re telling me…”

“I always have sex on the first dates because I know I’ll screw up the second ones and they’ll get to know the real me, and it’ll be over. I froze when Cas kissed me, because I didn’t have any idea what to do, when it couldn’t lead to a bedroom. I don’t know how to talk to guys, and when they make the first move, I take it there by the end of the night, and then I inevitably get awkward the next time I see them, and I still can’t talk to them, but they’re expecting me to take the lead, and everything just screeches to a halt. This is even worse, because we never even got that far, and when I made conversation with him before, it was easier, because I didn’t think he liked me!”

He could hear Dean’s hand smacking his forehead. “You are the weirdest combination of people parts all thrown together into one enormous, hulking person, you know that? You’re like every character from Scooby Doo in one guy.”

His eyes closed. “That’s fair.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I want you to answer him. From me. I’ll send you his number, and you can pretend you’re me, and just say you’re on a different phone, and you can-“

“What? No! Dude, you’re a grown-overgrown man! You talked with him just fine, enough that the guy wants to see you again. So? See him again! He survived you the first time. He will survive you again! Call him!”

“Wouldn’t a text be-“

“Sammy?” his brother growled in warning.

He sighed. “Right. Okay. I can do this.”

“What the hell is wrong with you? We talked about this!”

“I like him, man. I really like this one.”

“I like him too! So call him. Now!”

He nodded. “Right. Okay. I will. Now.”

“Now. Report back to me.”

“I will.”

“God, you’re a middle schooler. Go on! Now!”

Sam sighed one last time, and hung up. He stared at his phone, and wondered if his stupidest anxiety attack of all time had finally peaked or if the worst was yet to come.

***

Castiel was staring at his book, but hadn’t read anything in several minutes. He wasn’t even really thinking of anything.

Jack had taken his homework upstairs and was probably almost ready for Castiel to check over it. But he couldn’t make himself get up to investigate his son’s progress. He just kept staring.

When his phone buzzed, he groaned. He had gotten through most of his shift without being bothered, a rare, quiet day, but now…

His breath caught in his throat.

Sam.

He answered in a voice too deep. “Hello, Sam.”

“Hey, Castiel. Dr. Pierce. Cas.”

He frowned. “Cas, please, or Castiel. Sam, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable-“

“No, I’m not! I mean, not because of you. More because of me.”

His dark brow raised. “I don’t understand.”

“Cas, look, I didn’t get your messages until a few minutes-I didn’t look at my phone all day, and-But now I see them, and I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you.”

Relief poured over him. “It’s all right. I’m glad to know it wasn’t because I offended you. I’ll leave you alone. I just wanted to be sure Jack and Ben-“

“No! Yes, yeah, Jack and Ben, sure. But...did you change your mind about...the other thing?”

His heart began pounding in his chest, and he lifted himself to start wandering aimlessly about the lower floor of his house. “No, of course not. Do you...want to talk about it?”

“If you want to get together, if you’re still interested, I would love to. A show, you said? What kind of show?”

Castiel took a deep breath. “I thought maybe something at the theatre in the city. If you like that sort of thing.”

“I love theatre!”

He smiled at last. He couldn’t wait to tell Balt. “The Boys in the Band is playing Saturday at Curtain Call.”

“I’ve never seen it. Always wanted to.”

“It’s a good show. Maybe...a bit heavy for a first date.” He wondered why he felt like it was going too far to call it a date. Wasn’t that what they were talking about? Dating?

“Do you think something else would be better?”

He breathed out happily. So Sam agreed. Dating was, in fact, what they were doing. “We could go to a movie.”

“Movies are fine.”

He had heard the lilt in Sam’s voice. “You have an idea.”

There was a hesitation over the line. “No, it’s probably dumb.”

Suddenly, it occurred to Castiel that he didn’t care what Sam suggested. He wanted to see the man again. It didn’t matter to him at all how. “Tell me.”

“I just…I’m out of town for work until Saturday, and then...Do you swim?”

Castiel blinked in surprise. “Swim? I love to swim. I haven’t been in a long time.”

“If you wanted, I could arrange to have my place to myself, and...and I could have you over for a night swim. It’s-it’s my favorite time to swim, and I’ve never done it for...for, like, a date. But I’ve always kind of wanted to.”

A shiver ran through Castiel’s spine as he imagined seeing Sam in the water by moonlight. He licked his lips gently. “I think I’d like that very much. Would you like to text me details?”

“Really?” Sam sounded surprised. But he recovered quickly. “Yeah! I’ll do that. Sounds good. Sounds-sounds great, really! I’ll look forward to it the next two days! Does that seem, you know, too eager?”

Castiel loved that Sam seemed so genuinely happy to be making plans with him. He smiled. “I think it seems perfect. I’m glad you called.”

“So am I!” The man sounded as though he were shocked by this too. “Okay then! Goodnight!”

“Goodbye, Sam.”

When the call ended, he stared at it until he heard shuffling behind him. Jack was grinning when he looked up. “Sam? Mr. Winchester? That Sam?”

Castiel watched him with suspicion. “Yes. Why?”

“No reason! Hey, can I text Ben from my tablet? I got his username while he was here. We want to do Minecraft together.”

“Yes, that’s fine. No strangers though. You know the rules.”

“Ben’s not a stranger,” Jack called over his shoulder as he raced up the stairs. “We’re practically cousins!”

It was a good two minutes before Castiel realized what the boy had just indicated, and by then, he was alone with his thoughts again.


	5. Stunning and Sensitive

Sam was already in the water, swimming laps in the dusk, when Castiel arrived. His heart was pounding in his chest. He was not used to taking chances like this. He couldn’t remember the last time he had asked Charlie to watch Jack on a night he wasn’t on call at the emergency room. She had been shocked to find out she was being asked to babysit for Castiel to go out on a date. She had asked a thousand questions, and had demanded to know every detail upon his return home. He had joked that if all went well, he wouldn’t be home until morning.

That playful optimism was failing him now, as he walked around the back of Sam’s home as instructed, and could hear the gentle splash of water. Sam was already swimming. He was already undressed and swimming. Castiel’s heartbeat was relentless.

He let himself into the fenced backyard, and forced his feet to carry him toward the sound of water. There was a dimly lit patio leading to the pool. The moon was generous and beautiful. He took a deep breath, and began to smile. The sharp edges to his anxiety eased under the moon’s light, and excitement and expectation filled in the space which had been occupied by frantic butterflies just seconds ago. A night swim. What a gorgeous idea! Sam by moonlight. He couldn’t wait to see him.

A few more steps brought him to the side, where he could view the figure in the water.

Sam was swimming his laps, oblivious to his company, and Castiel could watch, lips parted, as the strength and beauty danced before him. The water marbled the breathtaking muscles, made it impossible to see enough, made Castiel desperate for a better view. He placed his bag down quietly and began to undress without taking his gaze from the large man.

At last, Sam stopped at one end of the pool, and dipped himself underwater to smooth his hair, and resurface again with a steady pant. His shoulders were incredible. Castiel stood like a carving, on the patio in his trunks, and suddenly felt entirely too warm in the night air.

No one, not even beautiful Balthazar, had ever stopped him so completely. Castiel could hear nothing, could see nothing but the gorgeous man before him. He was trapped and prone, and utterly vulnerable.

So this was what it felt like to be swept under by a current, to be pulled in mercilessly by a force against which he had no defense. So this was it, after decades of managing every detail of his life with confidence. This was what it was to be completely out of control. One glimpse of Sam Winchester like this, and he was at the mercy of this inescapable wave of want.

“Sam?” he breathed.

It was too quiet, but Sam was turning toward him anyway. His eyes widened with surprise. “Cas! You’re here!”

Then the graceful athlete was climbing out of the pool clumsily, nearly tripping over himself, and Castiel couldn’t help laughing, almost with relief, because Sam was so obviously nervous, and Castiel wasn’t the only one. He wasn’t in this alone. This stunning man was just as hopeful and anxious as Castiel was. He didn’t know how that was possible, but the look in Sam’s eyes half a foot above him gave him away, and Castiel adored him for it. “You’re nervous,” he blurted out.

Sam’s suit clung to him without any regard for Castiel’s already racing heart. But his grin was endearing. “Yeah. Of course I am. I mean...I’ve wanted...I noticed you every time we were at karate together, and always wondered...You-you look really good. In that. You look-I’ve got drinks over here if you want something.”

Castiel glanced down at himself, then looked up again. “Thank you. No, maybe in a little while.”

His host nodded, and didn’t stop searching his eyes, as if he worried Castiel was about to change his mind. As if Castiel even had the capability of changing his mind. “Can I get you something else then? Or...do you want to...come in?”

He smiled shakily. “I’d like that.”

Sam returned the smile with one of his own. “Yeah. Okay.” He turned to lower himself back into the water, giving Castiel a show of a muscular back as he did so. “I did my laps before you got here. Guess I lost track of time.”

Castiel followed as though he were being pulled heartfirst into the water. He didn’t even feel the chill as he thought he would as he slipped off the side into the shallow end.

Sam was watching him again. “It’s heated. I don’t usually-But I thought you might like it.”

He licked his lips and nodded. “It’s very nice. This whole thing is all very nice. It’s a gorgeous night for it.”

The athlete nodded, biting his lip. Now he was glancing down at Castiel’s mouth. “Gorgeous,” he agreed.

“Sam,” he began slowly.

The man’s lips were on his in an instant, stealing what little breath Castiel had been able to gulp in since catching sight of his date a moment ago. Castiel moved instinctively, and put his arms around Sam’s neck to lift himself without effort into the embrace. Sam’s shoulders were roped with muscle. Touching him made Castiel’s entire body react, and he pressed against the long torso before him. The soft, wet skin and hard, tight muscle worked together with Sam’s sweet mouth to leave Castiel gasping.

Sam’s eyes were flashing dark in the moonlight. He stood tall to let his guest breathe, but moved a hand to hold Castiel’s back, to hold them against one another. There had never been a lover who made Castiel feel small before. He took charge, always had, regardless of the size of the man he was with. But this man…

“Cas,” he murmured in a soft tone. “I want you. I’ve wanted you since I first saw you. What do you want me to do? Anything. Please. I’ve never wanted someone like I want you right now.”

The words flushed Castiel’s whole body. He growled low in his throat. “Say it again.” It was barely above a whisper, but a firm command nonetheless.

“That I want you? I do. I want all of you! You destroyed me with that kiss, and now...It’s all I can think, Cas, please. I’m-I’m not good at this, Cas, just tell me what you want me to do.”

A wolfish smile came over him. “You are nervous,” he chuckled.

“Yes! Obviously!” Sam suddenly seemed frustrated. “Are you just teasing me now, or what?”

His body screamed at him for it, but Castiel forced himself to push Sam gently back. He smiled up at him. His own fear had subsided in the wake of Sam’s. “I like you, Sam. Very much.”

“Then…” He shrugged.

“And trust me, I want you too. I want you. But I want to spend a while talking first.”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Talking. Cas, that’s the part I meant I’m not good at. The other stuff...Tell me what you like, and I can do it. I promise.”

“I believe you,” he sighed lustily. “I’ve no doubt in my mind that I’m going to want everything you have to offer me. But...is that all you want? Is this just a…a…” Balthazar’s voice burst into his mind, shouting, “Bloody hell, darling, it’s been so long you’ve forgotten the vernacular!” He scowled.

But Sam was nodding. “A hookup? I hoped so. I-I mean, unless I read something wrong somehow…”

Castiel resorted to plain speech, since he didn’t want any misunderstanding between them. “I want to have sex with you, Sam.”

“Oh, thank god.”

He laughed quietly. “But I don’t just want to have sex with you. I’d like to get to know you. When we talked a week ago, it was so nice to learn more about you. That’s what you think you aren’t good at? Sam, talking with you is what made me want to kiss you in the first place. It’s why I’m here now.”

He swallowed hard. The water lapped about them lazily with every movement they made. “You don’t understand. I’m smart, right? Stanford corporate attorney. But I’m completely stupid when it comes to dating. You’ll lose interest. At least with a hookup, nobody expects anything else, so you don’t leave disappointed.”

Castiel lifted his hand to touch Sam’s hot cheek. “I want more. I want you, and I want this. You asked me what I like. I like you. I know what it’s like to feel like you’re only good at your job, Sam. I’m a surgeon, and a very good one. I try with all my heart to be a good father. And for years, that’s all I was, just those two things. But you take my breath away when I look at you, and you fascinate me when you talk to me. It reminds me I’m not just a surgeon and a father. You’re an attorney and a brother, but there’s more to you too. Share that with me. I won’t lose interest. I’m falling for you, Sam. If you feel the same, even a little, let’s see where it goes.”

A slow smile hid the anxiety at last. “Counter argument,” the lawyer murmured as he dipped his head down to kiss him again. “Sex first. Then a night swim getting to know one another for as long as you can stand me.”

He sighed happily. “I make it a point to never argue with a lawyer.”

“And I like to follow the advice of my doctor. So advise me, and I’ll trust you know what you’re doing.”

That challenge was one to which Castiel felt compelled to rise.

***

The moonlight was even brighter and the water even warmer after laying with Castiel on the patio furniture first. Now they were both smiling dizzily, laughing softly together, and drifting however the water sent them. Sam was certain he had never felt so at ease with a lover before.

“I’ve thought of one,” Castiel said after a long, comfortable quiet.

Sam leaned on the side of the pool, staring up at the moon happily. “What is it?”

“You can’t tell anyone. It’s so stupidly stereotypical.”

He laughed. “Tell me!”

“My favorite app on my phone is an interior design game.”

Sam burst into breathless cackles. “No, it isn’t.”

“It is. Home Design. It’s addictive. I’m like level forty. I had to limit myself to only checking it twice a day. It could only be gayer if it were like hair design or something.”

He giggled. “Oh, I know!” he said at last. “When we were kids, Dean and I played superheroes a lot. One day, he was Superman, and he jumped off a ledge to pretend to fly. I played Batman. I broke my leg following after him.”

The dry, serious response only made him laugh harder. “Sam, everyone knows Batman can’t fly.”

“That’s what Dean said!”

“My comfort food is peanut butter and jelly.”

“I make a fantastic peanut butter and jelly,” Sam promised. He shrugged. “That’s my next one, honestly. I can’t cook. Like, at all. I’m only good at sandwiches. If it weren’t for Dean and takeout, I’d probably have starved a long time ago.”

“Good thing I cook,” Castiel replied thoughtfully.

A sudden shiver of joy ran through him as he realized Castiel was imagining a future in which they were together, in which he cooked for Sam regularly. He took a deep breath. “I’m good at some stuff, like fixing things around the house.”

“I can. But I dislike it very much. I will sooner call a handyman than work something out on my own, even if it’s simple. I guess that’s wasteful. So it’s nice to know you’re handy.” Castiel looked up then. “I can’t drive stick.”

Sam chuckled at him. “I can teach you if you want. I’m terrible when I’m sick. I get grouchy and restless, because I can’t work out.”

“I’m a good doctor,” Castiel reminded him, and he leaned in for a sensual kiss. “I’ll watch over you.”

His heart was soaring. Castiel’s game of telling one another embarrassing tidbits was proving to be exactly what they both needed to shake their nerves. It allowed them to relax and gently tease, as well as reassure one another. Sam found that none of his most embarrassing habits or stories were quite as embarrassing as he had remembered them being. And he loved the way Castiel was countering everything he admitted to with a reason that it made them even more compatible.

“What else?” Castiel wondered in that deep, sighing voice.

“I still listen to Ladyheart.”

Castiel shrugged. “I listen to Beyoncé. We play Taylor Swift in the operating room some days. You’ll have to try harder than that to-“

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Blue eyes, reflecting the moon’s light, blinked twice. He opened his mouth and closed it twice before responding. “I’m already in love with you,” he whispered.

Sam laughed again, in spite of the emotion in his throat and stinging at the backs of his eyes. “I cannot pass a dog on the street without stopping to say hi. It’s a problem.”

Castiel dove into his arms and pulled him into a long, passionate kiss, and Sam never wanted the moment to end, even though he was excited to see where the next one would take them.


	6. Apologies and Accolades

Who had won and who had come in second didn’t really matter. Not really. It did a little, of course, but in the grand scheme-

“He even looks like a champion, doesn’t he?”

Sam snickered quietly. He knew better than to say a word. Not when it was his step-son and nephew’s big day. Sam couldn’t care any less which had taken the gold medal and which the silver. They were both his boys, and he loved both their fathers. Castiel and Dean were both ridiculously puffed in the chest.

The boys were only fourteen, and this was the sixth sport they had tried together since karate had made them inseparable. Ben had been particularly good as a baseball catcher, and Jack had been a fair pitcher. They had been just as competitive at basketball, but neither had really loved it. Dean had held his breath the entire football season, hoping it would be the one they stuck with, but then they were off to hockey and then soccer. Now Sam was delighted to see them both so committed to swimming. He didn’t know if it would last, but he loved every moment of it.

Jack still did karate on Mondays, and Ben was talking about making a return to hockey for the winter months. But they weren’t so concerned about doing things separately now that they were truly family. They had set into motion and nurtured Sam and Castiel’s relationship until it had culminated into them becoming cousins, and took full credit for it all at the wedding, much to the amusement of the guests.

Ben had put his matchmaking skills to good use twice more. Dean had been dating Robin, Ben’s guitar teacher, for two years now.

The other match had been of a different nature, and far more unexpected.

Sam had invited Lisa and Matt to his wedding, because he felt it was the right thing to do for his nephew. Ben had enlisted Jack to swap placecards to create the very awkward situation of seating Dean right next to Matt and Lisa next to Balthazar for the reception.

Dean had attempted to get Lisa’s attention, to discretely switch seats with her, but Ben had considered this as well, and had instructed “uncle” Balt to demand a dance from his mother the moment the music began. Finally, Ben had assured the bartender that each of his fathers would prefer liquor instead of beer, and that they tipped well when drinks came quickly.

So it was at Sam’s wedding that Dean had gotten drunk with his ex-wife’s husband before he had even realized they were being over-served. As clenched jaws relaxed, truth tumbled out between them.

“You know,” Matt muttered at last, “I don’t hate you, Dean.”

Dean snorted, and lifted his glass again. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“I mean, I do,” came the confession. “But it’s not what you think.”

“It’s pretty clear what you think of me.”

Matt shrugged moodily, and maybe a bit guiltily. “Okay. What do you think I think?”

Dean pointed his finger over the cup at him. “You know what I think you think? I think you think I’m stupid. And dumb. I’m a-a loser, is what I think you think.”

The other man shook his head. “No. You’re an arrogant asshole.”

“I’m an arrogant asshole?“ Dean sputtered. “You-“

“You are. But I don’t think you’re stupid. I think you’re what Lisa always wanted.”

He had frozen, with his mouth slack and tongue malfunctioning.

Matt scowled down at his own drink. “You know what it’s like to be the guy your wife and kid settled for? The one who’s good enough? It didn’t work out for you and Lisa, for a lot of reasons. But it wasn’t because she wasn’t in love with you. Part of her still is. Maybe always will be. I know she loves me, and-and we’re better matched than you two ever were. But you’ve haunted my marriage from day one, Winchester. Every time I made a mistake in the beginning, I couldn’t help wondering how you must’ve done it better.”

Dean shook his head in disbelief. “You think I’m...That she…”

“Wanted you and got stuck with me? Yeah. I think that all the time. Same with Ben. I love that kid like my own. But he’s always going to be yours. You’ll always be the one he calls first when he has good news. You’ll always be the one he calls for advice, no matter what I’ve tried to tell him.”

He cleared his throat and tried to laugh. “No, that’s Sam.”

“No. Because he knows what we all know. That his dad’s plenty smart. And I’m just the one he lives with most of the time.”

It made him wince to say it. “Come on. He loves you, man.”

Matt nodded. He was moving his cup around in circles, staring at it to avoid Dean’s gaze. “Yeah. I know. I’m the boring, reliable second husband and the step-dad who pays the bills and locks the doors at night. And they’re my whole world. So if I ever got nasty with you…”

“You did. Like every time I ever saw you.”

The podiatrist sighed. “I shouldn’t be. And it’ll be a hard habit to break, but I’m gonna try. It’s only ever been because...you’ll always be the fan favorite, you know? It’s hard not to resent that.”

Dean echoed the sigh and put his drink down. “Man, I get it. Okay? Hell, I see you the same way! I’m the one that got the boot. You’re sleeping under the roof I worked my ass off to pay for, with the woman I wasn’t good enough for, down the hall from the kid I’m not there for every night anymore. You think that shit doesn’t sting? You won, Doc! That’s my problem, not your fault. You didn’t take Lisa from me. I lost her all by myself. But at least in front of Ben, I try to swallow that poison and show him how to be better.”

Matt’s eyes sparkled for an instant. Then he blinked and nodded. “That’s what I should be doing too.”

“Hate me all you want, but just not in front of my kid, okay?” He took a long breath. “In front of our kid. Our own issues are ours. If those two boys over there shoveling cake in their mouths two tables down can compete as fiercely as they do in sports, then walk away best friends when the game’s done…”

“We adults should be able to be civil.”

“Exactly.” Dean eyed him for another moment, then put his hand out to shake. Matt smiled weakly, and took it. Then Dean lifted his hand to gesture to the bartender. “Good. We’re going to need more drinks. It’s looking an awful lot like the woman we each married is enjoying her dance with my brother’s new husband’s ex-husband way too much.”

Matt groaned, and they shared a laugh, the first of many over the years to come, to the relief of their son.

Years later, the boys were rushing off to get their bags after the swim meet, clad in medals, and Sam had shared congratulatory hugs and back slaps with his brother. Castiel couldn’t stop smiling with overwhelming pride. Sam couldn’t help being in love with it.

“He definitely looks like a champion,” he agreed, kissing his husband gently.

Castiel finally looked up at him, with some suspicion. “Are you teasing me, Sam?”

“Of course not. Jack deserves that gold. I helped him train for it, and he earned it. But I also think his daddy is cute when he’s proud of his kid.”

The surgeon smiled up at him happily. “Sam? I’ve said this a number of times before…”

He waited.

“I’m so glad you came over for a playdate so long ago.”

“Because I helped coach Jack into earning his first gold in swimming?” he teased.

“Because you’re the best thing that has ever happened to us, since one another. You’re the love of my life, Sam. And if you hadn’t given us a sporting chance all those years ago-“

Sam stopped him with a kiss, because he never wanted to think about a world in which he wasn’t Castiel’s husband. “Shh. I’m still not over being shocked you wanted a second and third date with me.”

Castiel’s eyes shone brightly. “Would you and your protégé like some spaghetti when we get home?”

“Jack and I have never said no to that. And maybe after he’s gone to bed, we could have a little night swim?”

The man beamed. “I will never say no to that, my love.”


End file.
